Archive LibraryThere's a skybroom tree in here. It's surprising. There is also a stage, and this room has been cleaned and tidied; it's an interesting space to be sure.

Midday and the overcast sky fills the archives with a dull, diffuse light, heat pouring in through the hole in the ceiling as if pressed down into the room by the weight of those clouds. There's a sense of construction here, ladders set up, tools and cleaning supplies strewn around, but the works are absent, probably for lunch. It's just Nora who stands here, surveying the slow progress of repairs with her arms crossed over the front of a fine white blouse that promises she will not be picking up a hammer any time soon. And yes, the black skirt still shows plenty of calf, despite whatever protests some people might have.

Popular belief to the contrary, Renalde's micromanaging tends to be kept more or less in private. Thus, it is fitting for the workers to be absent when he enters the once-library. Sure steps bring him parallel to Nora, loud enough for his entrance to be more then broadcast before he reaches her. "The work goes well?" No need for the pleasantries, straight to work. His eyes do flicker downward to that skirt for just a moment, but he chooses not to comment, instead shifting his gaze outwards to the work in progress.

Nora lets the approach go unwatched, but as Renalde comes to stand beside her, she turns to smile up at him, all the greeting he gets before she goes back to her survey. "It's going. I'll miss having the extra hands of candidates but… I suppose the work is reaching a point where specialists are better suited anyway. I like to think, though, of what it will be." There's just a touch of dreamy distance in her voice, chin tipping up as she lets her eyes stare off through that skylight of a hole.

"Untrained hands can cause as much chaos as idle hands when working on that which is delicate." Renalde agrees with her assessment. He steps forwards, taking a slow tour around the room, gazing upon everything which he passes by. As he passes the tree he allows one hand to briefly reach out and touch it before his hand falls back again. "Have you asked the harpers if they intend to use this stage now that the gypsy girl will have little use for it?"

Her eyes track him, watching the progress of Renalde's measured steps. "I haven't," Nora responds when the stage comes into question, finally rousing from her standstill with a swing of her skirt and drifting in the direction of that particular curiosity. "I suppose it's as good a place as any, for a stage: there will be chairs, space for an audience." But her uncertainty is there in the length of an exhale. "What do you think we should do?"

"It is something to consider. I was not supportive of it starting out but perhaps it could be useful to have an area for celbrations outside of the living caverns." Renalde's tone is contemplative and he continues to pace around the room. "I am glad that this tree will stay. It has a particular feeling to it."

Nora nods readily, even if her expression is a touch distracted by thought. "I just don't want to spend space on something that will be used only now and again. I know I want to have a cart come in, for klah and tea, a place for the kitchens to share experiments, but…" But she hasn't figured out if there's a way to combine the two ideas. The stage and the food. So she shakes her head and turns her attention to the tree. "It's like standing in someone's imagination, isn't it?" Her smile spreads easily as her eyes lift to to the pattern of boughs and leaves.

Renalde nods again, taking a few more steps to test a newly installed doorway over the shelving. It moves smoothly without a single creak. Having satisfied his curiousity in that area, the headman turns again back to Nora. "It is an area unwritten still. Posibilities exist, and a place like this," Renalde's turn for introspection and slight smile, "it seems to fit the mood."

There's something a bit more private about the smile Nora wears, pleased, as she cants her glance back to Renalde. "Possibilities," she repeats. "Potential." Something they can agree on. "Though that reminds me," and it does so with a slightly more serious note. "I was talking to Hannah about something. About preparing for the Pass." She cocks a brow to see if he's interested.

"Potential is the one characteristic Southern has in droves, above all else in many ways." Renalde folds his elegant hands across his chest and he sighs, just a touch, though perhaps more for show then out of real emotion. "Much will need to change before the pass begins."

"We were talking about preparing the caverns," Nora explains, though there's a hitch of a smile still lingering for Renalde's comments on the Weyr's most prolific quality. "There are still so many things, I feel, that need sorting out, need honing." And Renalde is probably used to Nora's hunger for efficiency by this point. "But the weyrwoman and I wondered what we could do to get the weyrfolk ready, to find the best ways to support the wings."

Any hint of a smile that may have grace Renalde's face folds back into his calm thinking mask as Nora speaks. "We will need some new duty rosters. A group assigned to assist riders as they return, some to train with the Healers as extra hands. Meals will need to be prepared beforehand to free up the kitchen staff. In addition, we will need to set up ground crews and communicate with the small holds springing up around to be sure they are also involved." Clearly, Renalde has put some thought into the coming scourge also.

"All of those things," Nora agrees, patient while Renalde explains his list and smiling in agreement when its through. "I have little experience with groundcrew, myself." Which, well, no one does, really? So perhaps that's not entirely the point of her mentioning it. But really, the point she's angling toward is: "Hannah and I were discussing running some practice scenerios. To test our readiness, learn better ways to do things, figure out what we need on hand…" After, of course, they've sorted out duty rosters and assignments. "It might be a while off yet, but I do think any practice we can get could be helpful."

"It is sound thinking. Thread is only months away, starting now would be no fools idea. I imagine the start of thread will be chaos and disorganization. Training the staff to a particular set of procedures to minimize the disorganization would only benefit in the long run. There are few enough in the north who would come to our aid if we were unprepared." A single finger taps on Renalde's hands as he muses out loud to Nora, folding the idea over in his own mind. "Yes. Tonight we can begin drafting rosters, perhaps the junior weyrwoman will lend her expertise- having faced this trouble before."

"Surely you have some relationships that you could lean on," she interjects regarding the northern Weyrs. "Or if nothing else, friends to share ideas with, regarding what we can do." Nora slips into her sweet smile, light and easy, as she sways her steps back in Renalde's direction. "I'll tell the Weyrwoman that you'd be willing to help her. And yes, that's our thinking. She can work up a script of sorts, a list of things we might have to face." she gives nod for the Headman having the right of it, procedures for fighting chaos. "And we can tend the rosters whenever you like, sir." His right hand is always ready.

Renalde regards the woman with an upraised eyebrow. "My dear, I have already called in many of my relationships. I am unsure if you are aware of how unpopular this venture in the south has been to those who are not profiting from our marks." The hint of male superiority which Renalde has managed to cover up over long hours of working with the woman peeks its way out in his last statement. "Perhaps we could find some small help, but it would be too little and much too late." The finger taps again on Renalde's crossed arms, and his gaze unfocused a bit as he thinks. "Yes. As soon as is possible. The crafters would need to be included-perhaps pulling those from the dolphin and sea crafter complexes to the weyr except for a skeleton crew during thread. I will speak to the weyrwoman, arrange a time for us to sit down and begin preliminary drafts of duties which would need to be trained."

Nora admits to nothing, whatever she may be aware of or not, her neat head just tipping to the side with inattentive interest. "I was thinking more along the line of sharing ideas, strategies, broadening the pool of processes we can try in order to find something that works for us. Though I am sorry to hear that you've fun out of favors." Her mouth pinches sympathetically for his relationship troubles. But as for the rest, "As you wish," she says with chipper ease. Any who has met Nora can probably guess that she's got her own notes on things to be sorted out, squirreled away somewhere from a night of workaholic organizing. But all in due time.

"I will see what I can do. It may require me from going north for a space however, messages can be misunderstood easily. Renalde unfolds his hands and casts a gaze around the room. We will need a way to cover this place when thread falls. I am sure the wings will not allow anything to fall, but there is no use in inviting trouble.

"If you prefer," Nora says, understanding his need to discuss matters personally, and, of course, assuming that she'll be in charge during his absence. But all of that is neither here nor there, really, when he mentions thread coming through the ceiling. His assistant's mouth drops open as her eyes lift up again. "You think that's necessary?" Talk about danger hitting a little close to home. Her gaze drifts back down, along the tree that could be devoured, the wood of shelves and the paper of books. Her swallow might be enough to suggest she's taking this possibility quite seriously.

Renalde pulls his gaze back from the opening to the gray sky. "I would rather not borrow trouble. Perhaps the smiths can devise a cover which can be folded back to minimize any damage." From the doorway the first of the workers begin to filter in, laughter breaking the drapery of gloom which Renalde's words had cast. "I look forward to your notes tonight Nora." Seemingly, the appearance of others has cut short any other gloomy subjects to be spread.

Staring up, Nora is no doubt lost in trying to imagine some variety of ways they can deal with this problem, a variety of ways they can prevent the worst rather than be left to react to it. And she does seem worried, for the tree, the archives, for the thought of the great nemesis slithering around just down the hall from where she sleeps. It's written in the small gape of her mouth, the flat of her pale cheek. And then the workers return and Renalde so readily wraps it all up. So Nora closes her little mouth and turns to him with a smile that takes a second to warm. "Absolutely," she promises, there will be notes. "Me too."